"But I can't draw," Angel said, "and I know you are sorry I can't. I have heard you say lots of times that I have missed the artistic temperament." "Well, perhaps I am a little disappointed on that account," Mr. Willis allowed with an amused twinkle in his eyes; "but you have other excellent qualities which may serve you as well, if not better." "Mother used to say God gave different talents to different people," Angel remarked thoughtfully, "but I don't know that I have any particular talent." "I believe you have one—perhaps more; but I am certain you have one." "What is it?" she asked eagerly. "A talent for happiness," he replied, with a smile. "Oh, father, that is nothing!" she cried in disappointed tones. "Nothing, is it? I think it's something worth cherishing with the greatest care. To possess a talent for happiness you must be blessed with a contented spirit." "Mother used to say that if we believed God did everything for the best we should always be contented." "She was right. You must never forget her teaching. I love to hear you quote her so often." Father and daughter spent the remainder of the afternoon very happily together; the time passed so quickly that both were surprised when Gerald returned from school, although he was later than usual. His temper had not improved, for he had been in hot water on account of his not having prepared his home-work properly, and he had consequently a long imposition to do that evening, besides his usual lessons. When informed by his father of Mr. Bailey's offer to Angel, and her refusal of it, he expressed great surprise. "I only wish Uncle Edward would ask me to go and live with him at Haresdown House!" he exclaimed. "Don't you think I might go instead of Angel, father?" "I should not dream of suggesting it," Mr. Willis replied, at which the boy's face fell. "You wouldn't like to leave us, would you, Gerald?" Angel questioned somewhat reproachfully. "Wreyford is not so very far from here," he said evasively, refraining from giving a direct answer. "It would be so much jollier in the country. It's a pity we can't all leave London. What a silly you are not to want to go with Uncle Edward, Angel; still, I'm glad you've made up your mind to stay at home; it isn't like the same place when you're away!" The little girl's eyes shone with happiness at this remark; she failed to grasp the vein of selfishness running through it, but her father did, and his face expressed the displeasure he felt. A short while later Mr. Bailey returned, and Mr. Willis at once told him Angel had decided to remain in her London home. "It is not that I don't love you," Angel said, as she saw the disappointment in her uncle's countenance, "because I do. But I can't leave father and Gerald; I can't indeed. Oh, please don't think I don't understand how kind you are, and how good—"